Excerpt:
He took her mouth, silencing her question. Her lips held tightly firm for a moment, then yielded to him. His tongue slid inside to taste her thoroughly. Sweet, soft and amazing. When he released her, he read the unleashed passion in her half-closed eyes.

She blushed a deep red, glancing around the tent. “Corporal …Kyle…you mustn’t take such liberties. What will the others think?”

He looked around and shrugged. “No one’s paying us any attention.”

She lifted the pan. “I have to go.”

Before he could stop her, she hurried past him moving to the front of the tent.

“Josie.”

Something blared beside his cot. He turned his head and woke in his own bed to the blast of rock music from his alarm clock.

He shut it off and sat up. What a vivid dream! The ones he’d had before had been fragmented and fuzzy. He’d barely remembered them afterward. But that kiss. He touched his lips, swearing he could still feel her softness, smell her lavender scent.

Another look at the opening chapter of my American Victorian romance novella.

Excerpt:“Of course, Doctor.”

He handed the bag to Elliot, who held it out to his charge.

She grasped it and cradled it against her chest. Her eyelids fluttered as she glanced out the window. When she turned back, Elliot noted her clear hazel eyes. A tinge of color had returned to her face, but he suspected she needed food before the train arrived at York.

“I’m a bit hungry myself,” he said. “Why don’t we go to the dining car for a snack?”

“The dining car?” She shook her head. “Oh, no sir, I could never afford…” She broke off.

Since I’ve been posting excerpts from my short paranormal romance, Dreaming Josie, where the modern day hero is having vivid dreams of being a soldier in a Civil War field hospital, I’d thought I’d post information from my research for the story.

Civil War field surgeons were often called butchers, but it was the weaponry of the day, the slow-moving minie bullet that was responsible for the catastrophic injuries and amputations that were so common in Civil War field hospitals. At the Battle of Chickamauga, John Bell Hood’s leg was struck by two minie bullets, shattering five inches of his upper thigh bone. Surgeons had no choice other than amputation with the state of nineteenth century medicine. Men who lost arms, such as Stonewall Jackson and Oliver O. Howard, had high morality rates. Amputees were a very visible reminder of the brutality of this war. At the time, weaponry had far surpassed the medical techniques needed to aid such injuries.

Soldiers wounded in battle might wait at least a day, maybe two before treatment could be administered. And antiseptics weren’t used in surgery until 1865, the final year of the war. Even a simple precaution like hand washing wasn’t routinely done before a surgeon operated. Clothes of doctors were blood splattered while going from patient to patient. If something was dropped during the surgery, it would be rinsed in cool, bloodied water. Sponges were dipped in cool water and used over again on different patients.

One surgeon recalled: “We operated in old blood-stained and often pus-stained coats, we used undisinfected instruments from undisinfected plush lined cases. If a sponge (if they had sponges) or instrument fell on the floor it was washed and squeezed in a basin of water and used as if it was clean.”

The term “Sawbones” was used to describe a doctor because the bonesaw was a common instrument used to amputate a shattered limb. The surgeon would saw through the bone until it was severed. The limb was then tossed into a pile of limbs from other unfortunate patients. “A good surgeon could amputate a limb in under 10 minutes.”

Only if a soldier was lucky would he escape what were known as “Surgical Fevers”. Gangrene, Pyemia, a form of blood poisoning; as well as other infections developed from the lack of cleanliness and antibiotics, which didn’t exist at the time, and the fact that surgeons were required to work with speed. Once an infection entered the body, it was difficult to treat with the medicines available.

Since I own the rights to this story, originally published in a Civil War romance anthology put out by The Wild Rose Press, I’m considering expanding the story into a full-length novel. If you’re enjoying the excerpts from this short e-book, based on true stories of Civil War reenactors who believe they were soldiers in a past life, let me know what you think.

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Victorian Romance

About the Author

Susan Macatee writes American Civil War romance, some with a paranormal twist. From time travels to vampire tales, her stories are always full of love and adventure.

She’s spent many years as a Civil War civilian reenactor with the 28th Pennsylvania Volunteer Regiment. She's a wife, mother of three grown sons, and has recently become a grandmother. She spends her free time inhaling books, watching baseball games and favorite old movies.